


Wedding Bell(e)s Part 1

by thewritingkoala, Tina0609



Series: Tom & Hanna [21]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Dress shopping, Drinking, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Fluff, Karaoke, Stress, Wedding Nerves, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewritingkoala/pseuds/thewritingkoala, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tina0609/pseuds/Tina0609
Summary: We get a glimpse at Tom's and Han's wedding planning up until their stag and hen nights. Will it all become too much, or will they stick through it together?
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Tom & Hanna [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1209162
Kudos: 13





	Wedding Bell(e)s Part 1

_**T minus 6 months, late May 2017** _

Tom frowns at his script, his brows furrowed as another sigh passes Han’s lips. She’s sitting on the other end of the couch by his feet, speaking on the phone with her mum.

Well, he suspects it’s her mum in Germany, but he doesn’t actually understand a word. At least not enough words to follow the conversation. But it doesn’t seem to be the happiest one, as now a frustrated groan leaves his fiancée’s lips.

“Weil das nun mal so ist.” _(well, because that's how it is)_ The tone in Han’s voice makes him look up at last. Her head rests behind her on the backrest, phone pressed against her ear, fingers pinching her nose.

Tom nudges her thigh with his foot, but she just slaps at it and shakes her head.

“What is it?” he whispers. She doesn’t answer. Instead she listens to the voice on the other end of the line.

“Klar will ich das. Deswegen gibt’s ja auch keinen typisch englischen Dresscode.” _(of course I want that. That's why there's no typically English dress code)_

Another nudge, another slap, and Han’s voice sounding more frustrated by the second. Tom puts the script in his lap. He doesn’t like this one bit. He suspects it’s about the wedding, but shouldn’t Han sound happy about it?

“Mama,” she says. “Das soll mein Tag werden. Mein schöner Tag. Da ist mir doch egal, ob Tante Doris gerne Rotkohl isst.” _(It's supposed to be my day. My beautiful day. As if I care about aunt Doris liking Rotkohl)_ She listens, groans and closes her eyes. With horror Tom notices Han’s hand begins to shake. He sits up, she ignores him. “Natürlich mag ich das auch, ich hab ja nicht gesagt, dass es keinen Rotkohl gibt. Wir wissen es nur noch nicht.” _(Of course I like it too, I didn't say there won't be Rotkohl. We simply don't know yet.)_ Another pause. “Weil wir noch Zeit haben, verdammt!” _(Because we've still got time, dammit!)_

“Hey,” he whispers. Han’s up now as well, but she has her elbows on her knees and doesn’t react to Tom’s hand on her thigh. She shakes her head at him, signalling that she doesn’t need that comfort now. To hell with that.

“Mama, man muss nicht unbedingt im Sommer heiraten, das steht nirgendwo geschrieben. Und Flüge können auch im Juli ausfallen.” _(Mama, one doesn't have to merry in the summer. And flights can get canceled in July as well.)_ This pause lasts longer. “Ich will nicht mehr diskutieren. Entweder ihr steigt alle in den Flieger oder ein paar Leute bleiben halt zu Hause. Können wir das ein anderes Mal besprechen, ich muss jetzt los.” _(I don't want to discus this anymore. Either you get all on the plane, or a few people will stay at home. Can we chat another time? I have to go.)_

She hangs up and tosses her phone on the couch table. Two deep breaths and before Tom can do anything about it, Han’s up and walking out of the room without another glance.

What the heck?

Tom blinks. Scratches his head. Blinks some more.

What the ever-loving hell just happened? He scrambles back through the conversation, desperately grabbing at the clues - which are, to say the least, non-existent because he knows way too few German words.

But it’s clear enough that this must’ve been about their wedding and went downhill fast. Surely his future in-laws - gulp - can understand that having the wedding here in England makes more sense? But then what about words like “summer” and “July” that he thinks he’s heard.

Tom heaves a sigh when he hears muted banging from their room. His wife - almost! - is in a mood. She was also shaking and she ignored him, and now he has a tiny ball of dread in his stomach that’s spinning around and growing by the minute. They can do this, right? They’ve still got half a year, they love each other, they have people who love them and will help...

Placing the forgotten script on the coffee table, Tom gets up and pads in socked feet to the bedroom. He presses the ear against the closed door.

Nothing. At least that’s better than sobs. Or her cursing in German, which he always finds half-hilarious and half-arousing, for some weird reason.

“Han, love? You okay?” He opens the door, pokes his head in.

His fiancee - yesss! - is sitting crosslegged on the bed, a pillow clutched close and her head buried in it.

“Geh weg! Lass mich in Ruhe,” comes a mumbled retort. The words are mostly lost on him, the meaning is crystal clear in the tone though.

He closes the door, eyes narrowing. Alright then, he needs reinforcements. A detour to the kitchen has him digging out those chocolate chip cookies with the EXTRA chunky choco chips, then he’s back at the room door.

It's not Tom's fault, Han knows that. Of course she does. And it almost makes her feel the tiniest bit guilty for telling him to go away. But she can't help it, she's just so... frustrated.

Of course, it's not really her parents' fault either. It's just that she and Tom come from different countries, and both halves of their wedding party are going to have to compromise every now and then. They won't have a Polterabend, which is traditionally held in the week before the wedding with friends and family, a barbecue, Schnaps, and guests breaking porcelain for good luck. Well, that won't be happening. On the other hand some people from Tom's side of the family will probably have to get used to the German food served at the wedding breakfast.

Her head is swirling, this is all too much. They've just started. They've only now set the date - November, something that made Han's mama very doubtful of the weather - and she's already done with it.

Not that she doesn't want to marry Tom. Hell, better now than in six months, but this already doesn't feel like her big day anymore.

She hears shuffling from outside the room, and now she feels worse. Poor Tom probably doesn't even know what hit him.

"Han?" he tries again, not opening the door this time. She doesn't want to talk. Can't, really, because she'll start crying and he'll think she doesn't want to marry him or that they should elope. Which sounds more appealing by the minute, but let's be honest. She wants her family there.

But how? She doesn't want to miss the different traditions, but it'll be one hell of a nightmare if they try to squeeze everything in.

Han folds in on herself a little more and turns, now lying in bed, on her side, facing the middle of the bed with her face still buried in the pillow. Tom's probably stuck outside the door, but she still can't say anything back.

She doesn't have to, because the next thing she hears is the door opening and then her fiancé's feet shuffling over to his side of the bed. Hm? She lets go of the pillow for a moment and sniffs. Hm, indeed. That's definitely cookies. The good ones.

Tom chuckles, and as much as she tries not to, Han smiles. "Cookie?" he asks, holding his hand out. She takes it and nibbles on it. When Han looks at him Tom's brows are furrowed, but a small grin is showing on his lips. "What's going on?"

Han shrugs. And eats on. She turns again, now facing the ceiling and she can feel Tom doing the same next to her. Then she sighs. "It's this whole German-English-wedding-thing," she explains and probably doesn't explain at all at the same time. "Everyone has opinions, and I have no idea how to plan this without making everyone mad at me."

Han mumbles it, trying to keep her emotions at bay, but she knows Tom's heard, because he takes her free hand between them and squeezes.

"You do know it's our wedding day, right?"

Well, no shit, Sherlock.

“I know,” she emphasises, and this time Tom is barely able to smother his grin.

He’s not laughing at her, wouldn’t dare, especially because he knows Han takes this to heart. ‘This’ being trying to make everyone feel welcomed, no matter if it’s a Hollywood co-star of his or the daughter of Han’s neighbour.

Han’s sigh usually sound like she has to carry the world on her shoulders though. And Tom knows that she knows it’s not the case. Not really. He offers another cookie, but doesn’t let go of her hand.

“Thank you,” Han mumbles. And then turns her head and smiles at him. “Not just for the cookie by the way.”

Tom pulls on her arm, and she follows with her whole body, wrapping herself around him. So they lie side by side for a moment. A long moment. Her head on Tom’s shoulder, her arm around his middle, Tom’s hand playing with her hair. The occasional kiss in between.

“You’re welcome. Of course you are.”

The next sigh is contend. Those are the ones Tom loves.

“And wifey...”

She laughs and slaps his tummy at that. “Too early.”

“Doesn’t matter. Anyway. And wifey, I’m by your side. You know that. We’re going to plan together. The guests will love it. And if they don’t, it won’t matter. We’ll love it. And they can leave or not eat any Rotkohl at all, for all I care.”

“It is tasty.”

“I agree.”

“Can you tell that to the guests as well? The whole ‘doesn’t matter if you love it’-thing? That’d be awesome.”

“Done.” A kiss on her head and inhaling the scent of the apple shampoo in her hair settles it.

They’ll be fine. And switch off their phones for the rest of the day, just in case.

* * *

_**T minus 5 months, early July 2017** _

She should’ve eaten more. Or less?

Han doesn’t know. She was SO nervous this morning, as if this was more than just shopping. Well, it was. She’d probably never shopped for anything this important before, had she?

So she’d stuck to coffee and toast, forced down cause surely one shouldn’t go bridal dress shopping on an empty stomach. But now she was thinking she should’ve eaten more. Or less?

Argh. What if she put on lots of weight after she’d found THE dress? What if she lost lots of weight? What if... No, she was NOT thinking of stepping on the train, falling ass over tea kettle in front of the media and VIP guests, and marrying with a bloody lip. No, no, no.

“This one!” comes a squeal, and Han blinks out of her spiraling thoughts, realizing she’s been fingering a monstrosity in tulle and taffeta that is most certainly not her style.

“No, definitely not this,” she says, dropping the fabric as if she’s burned herself.

Sarah giggles and elbows her. “No, silly, THIS one!” She points emphatically to the left where a really modern bridal dress is hanging.

“Nope,” pipes up a voice to her right, where Emma is shooting all the gowns judgmental glares. “Way too short. They aren’t getting married in a flooded church, for heaven’s sake.”

“Wait a minute, I thought there was no church wedding?” comes a voice from the opposite corner of the shop where Tom’s mum is trailing her fingers over gossamer veils.

Oh help. Too many cooks spoil the broth - will too many shopping helpers spoil the dress choice?!

  
“There isn't,” Evie, Alex’s fiancée, pipes up from somewhere behind an even bigger nightmare from tulle-land. And then she immediately blushes as the other women look at her.

She’s still excited getting to know ‘Tom Hiddleston’s family’ as she confessed to just Han earlier. The holiday in Italy in two weeks with Ben, Eddie and their wives together with Alex and Evie will be such fun. Not just because Han will see both of them blushing furiously, but also because she’ll need the calm and quiet days before the wedding planning continues.

“Still needs to look classy, though,” Emma answers.

They’re right. All of them. And that’s the problem Han can already see looming on the horizon. She loves that they’re all here to support her, she really does. Especially considering her mum and friends from Germany can’t be with them. But it’s already getting too much – Han desperately wants Tom to bring her some cookies right now – and she hasn't even seen one dress she likes.

“So,” a high-pitched voice pipes up from somewhere left to Han. It’s Kate, the shop owner. “What are we looking for then? Tell me about the wedding? When and where? We’ll find something fitting for that.” The smile is bright and confident, and Han wishes she could feel the same. Or maybe soak up the feeling. At this point she’s ready to just put on some jeans and a sweatshirt for the big day. Han forces a smile on her face.

“It’ll be in November in the Cotswolds. Lots of free space, flowers and nature.”

“November! Nice. We can work beautifully with more than a year ahead of us.”

Han freezes, as do the other women in her party. “No,” she mumbles. “This November.”

Kate pales, and suddenly Han feels like fainting. Or not so suddenly. She should have eaten more than that toast. And possibly packed a bottle of water, too.

“Oh. OK. We’ll work with that. You have a lovely figure, I can see you in a dress that doesn’t need much altering.” Well, that sounds reassuring. “Let’s see some different styles, yes?”

They all nod along, and suddenly Sarah is next to Han, handing her a small water bottle with a smile and a wink. Maybe this won’t be a nightmare after all.

Han could still do with that cookie, though.

  
Her phone dings. Rather grateful for the short respite, she opens the message from Tom - and smiles so wide she’s half afraid it’ll split her face open.

Tom has sent a photo of their cookie jar from home, and a single question.

_ How’s it going, love? _

How to answer that? It’s going...well, it’s going. Period.

Han feels all fuzzy because somehow Tom seems to have known she might need a boost. He always does, doesn’t he? Know or sense these things about her, just like she does about him. That’s why she’s going to marry him.

Marry him, eeps. Aaaaand back to the wedding dress dilemma at hand.

She’s just about to ask the lovely but now nervous lady - Kate, right? - for some more help when something catches her eye. In the far corner, there’s a mannequin as thin as a needle and twisted into a decidedly inhuman pose. But all that registers is the dress hanging on its frame.

“Oh my god,” Han whispers to herself.

Sarah’s hand is suddenly a vice-like grip around her arm. “Don’t you dare faint on me, bride-to-be.”

“No.” Han titters, not sure why. “No no. No, look! Es ist wunderschön.*” _(It's beautiful.)_

She points emphatically at the dress and barely hears Sarah’s soft “oh” in response. It’s so gorgeous it might literally take her breath away.

* * *

The dress was beautiful and most importantly – it also looked beautiful on Han. Of course, she couldn’t take the first dress she saw without trying on others. At least that’s what the bridal party plus Kate told her. So, she’s also tried on three other dresses as well. All beautiful, but just not as much ‘her’ as the first one has been.

So. It’s been decided. She’s had her dress. Han’s almost started crying – okay, she cried for real – when she picked it. And then it almost turned to full blown bawling when all of the sudden Diana held her phone up, the image of Han’s mum on the other side of the screen.

“I thought she should see,” was all Tom’s mum mumbled, when Han hugged her tight. She couldn’t agree more.

After bridal shopping it was time for a quick lunch, although all Han wanted to do was run back home to Tom and tell him all about the dress. Which of course she can’t do (she promised Diana, Evie, Sarah and Emma) as he’s not allowed to know about the dress.

As Han closes the door of their shared home and leans with her back against it, she can’t help but scream. She has it! And she survived the day!

“What?!”

Han opens her eyes – stopping the giggling, clapping and stomping – to look into Tom’s concerned face at the end of the hall right by the door to the living-room.

“Hm?” she grins.

“You screamed like someone was chasing you. Or my sisters finally managed to convince you I’m not that clever and pretty after all.”

“Oh.” She can’t stop grinning. “I knew that and decided to marry you anyway.”

“I’m glad.” He’s smiling now, leaning against the doorframe. “So, did you have a successful day?”

Han nods and Tom’s eyes grow large. “I had.”

They smile at each other until Tom beckons her closer. Head tilted to the side she follows the order and finally sighs when she’s in his arms, hugging him tight and nuzzling closer as she feels him kissing the top of her head.

“Can you tell me?” Han hears the grin in his voice.

“I can. But I’d have to kill you.” The laugh rumbles through his body. “Or Emma might kill me.”

* * *

_**T minus 1 week, November 2017** _

Han takes another sip of her seriously fruity cocktail, a smile permanently plastered onto her face. It’s fun to be a hen.

Well, if that’s what you are on your hen’s night. Who the hell ever thought of that term anyway? And how does a hen match a stag?

The thought leads her to Tom, her almost husband, eeps. He’s probably smiling too. And god how she loves that smile. It makes his eyes twinkle and the skin around them crinkle, and it’s the most beautiful thing EVER.

“What is?”

“Huh?” She startles, blinking at Sarah and the other girls in their matching ‘Bridezilla’ t-shirts that are such a hoot.

“You just said, “it’s the most beautiful thing ever”, so what is?”

Oh oops, did she say that out loud?

Han grins sheepishly and takes another sip. “Tom’s smile,” the truth slips out unbidden. Good thing she’s already flushed from the partying and drinks or she’d blush now.

Her friend from Germany elbows her in the ribs and nearly makes her slosh the fruity liquid all over her.

“Suuuure, you think his smile’s his most beautiful feature. Na komm schon, I’m sure you can do better than that!” she taunts with a snigger.

There’s a bevy of giggles around her while Han snorts and blushes some more.

Just as she wants to answer - what, really, her Mama and Tom's mum are sitting on the other side of the table! - Sarah and Emma cover their ears with their hands simultaneously and with an outburst of "Heck, no!" that has the women laugh in earnest now.

"Well," Han grins, "his a- arms are quite nice." With a wink she takes another sip of her cocktail. Not too much, she promised that to herself, and a glass of water - a bottle really - is in fact always close by. The trip to Italy and its consequences is still on her mind months later, and will probably be there forever.

Han looks around the tables they share. Everyone is there, Evie, friends from Germany, her mum, Tom's mum and sisters. Sophie and Hannah. Those from their families that could make it have been invited to come to London for the week before the wedding. They get a chance to explore the city, spend time to get to know each other and relax before the big night at the location in the Cotswolds.

One. Week. She can't believe it. She'll officially be Tom's wife in one week. Although he tends to call her Wifey now as well, simply to annoy her. Honestly, wifey. No, thank you.

"So, are you nervous?" Evie asks from across the table. "I know I was."

Is she? No. Nervous would mean that she's not sure about it. She's scared she's gonna fall over her dress, sure. But honestly, even that wouldn't matter as long as she gets to marry Tom in the end. She's so looking forward to it.

She shakes her head. "No. I'm excited."

It gets her a lot of Awwwws, and from the corner of her eyes Han can see her Mama taking a handkerchief from Evie with a nod and a grateful smile.

The ping of her phone makes her look down beside her on the bench she's sitting on. It's not a message from Tom that awaits her, but one from her future brother-in-law, Emma's husband.

"He's having 'The Time of his Life'", he's written attached to a pic of Tom on a stage, clearly giving his best at karaoke. "Don't worry, we're in a private area of the club, nobody here that we don't know."

Han laughs and then smiles. They know her, the members of her new, second family. And they do everything to make sure she doesn't worry.

* * *

Tom guzzles down some mineral water. It’s not just that he’s thirsty (singing will do that to him) but also that he doesn’t want to get drunk today. A buzz? Sure, goes with the fun, and he’s already pleasantly tipsy. But that’s the farthest he wants to take it, no matter how much some of his buddies egg him on.

He wipes his sweaty brow on his forearm (a friend of his has doodled a ridiculous heart in shackles tattoo on it for some reason, which makes him grin) and sits back. So many of his friends are here tonight. Famous and non-famous, his age and not. There’s a constant noise around him, but it’s a happy kind of cacophony that he wants to bask in.

His phone vibrates in his jeans pocket and he sets the water bottle down to take it out. It’s a msg from Han, whose contact name he’s cheekily changed to ‘wifey’.

_ The time of your life, huh? Shouldn’t you be having that with me AFTER the marriage? _

Now his smile is even broader, probably a bit on the loopy grin side. But Tom doesn’t care. Everything she says or does makes him want to smile like a loon these days - well, when they’re not so stressed that he’s having a minor panic attack, that is.

Clearly, someone on his entourage has alerted her to his song choice.

Typing a bit more carefully than when he’s sober, Tom sends his reply.

_ Nope. Cause that would be my third life. First one was meh. Second one began when I met you. Third one’ll start when we’re officially married. _

A few seconds later, he gets an ‘aaawww’ and way too many emojis.

“Hiddleston, are you giggling?” asks Ben, plopping onto the bench now that his turn at karaoke is over.

“Scuse me, I don’t giggle,” Tom says indignantly, then yelps an “oy” when he feels an elbow dig into his ribs on his other side.

“Do too. Always did,” says his buddy Charlie.

With a “harumph”, Tom types again before setting the phone down.

_ Do I giggle? If so, is that a reason to marry me or to run screamin from the altar? _

* * *

_ You've been giggling since the first day I met you. I must've said something funny about koalas. _

That was the answer Tom received. A few hours ago now, and yup, he was smiling wide - and apparently giggling - then, too.

It's past 2am now, and Tom's finally, finally made it home. He's drunk a bit more beer, but way more water and feels rather good about himself. It's been an amazing night, but he's just so glad to be home.

And also glad that their families decided to stay at the hotel instead of Tom and Han's place. He loves them dearly - yes, Han's relatives too - but he wants to spend the evenings before they make it to their location in the Cotswolds alone with Han. He's fine with showing them all around by day. But the nights are for relaxing with his wifey.

Wifey. He sniggers on his way through the house, leaving his shoes and jacket by the door, making his way first to the bathroom to take care of business, have a shower and get ready for bed.

The light on the bedside table is still on, and Tom's smile grows a little bigger when he spots Han under the covers, face and body turned towards his side of the bed. She's had a shower too, but he knew that already, the bathroom smelled of her shampoo.

He tries to be as quiet as possible, but bumps into the corner of the dresser on his way to the bed.

"Shit," he hisses.

"'s fine," comes the mumbled reply. "'m awake."

Tom chuckles as he makes his way over and slips into his side. Immediately Han gets closer. "You don't look it to be honest."

She huffs. "Waited for you."

"Hm-hm. 'm here." Tom pulls her closer, finally greeting her with a kiss on her cheek.

"Finally."

Okay, so, maybe Han hasn't been fully awake. But she's now. Or well, she's determined to stay awake at least.

She snuggles closer to Tom - he thankfully showered, because as much as Han loves him, even he can't make the smell of cold smoke and stale beer sexy - and sighs into his neck.

"Did you have a nice time?" Tom mumbles and turns his head to press another kiss on her cheek.

"I did." It's true, she enjoyed her 'last night of freedom', though she can't imagine anything about her past being better than what she'll have with Tom. "Your mum got a bit drunk, it was funny, she starts talking just as much as you when you're tipsy."

They're both shaking the bed - with laughter that is, she's way too exhausted for anything more, thank you very much - just imagining and remembering the similarities between mother and son.

"I'm happy you had a good time," Tom finally breathes and turns them both around, so they're facing each other, arms wrapped around each other.

Han opens her eyes, Tom's already looking at her rather adoringly. "We're almost there," she whispers, "almost married." And she hasn't freaked out once today, but there'll be time for that in the upcoming days for sure.

"Hm-hm. Wifey."

"Oh, shut it."

He does. Maybe because his lips are busy kissing hers.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> From the next part onwards we'll have more, shorter chapters that will be posted every Sunday. We hope you'll enjoy :)


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